Halo, Angels, and My Dad

In my photograph, November Marsh 04, there are clouds that remind me of a halo. It looks like a “z” and it feels to me like a message. It makes a happy picture seem a bit more joyful. Almost like there is an angel blessing the beauty of the marsh.

I often think of my parents, who have both passed on. Even though they cannot be seen physically, I often feel their presence.

They had a troubled relationship and separated when I was six. My father moved to New York and we were in Pittsburgh. I did not see my dad very often and he had another family by the time I was in high school. Let me say here that I do not blame either of my parents – they were loving people and I know that they both did the best they could in the only way they knew, just as I have tried to be a good and loving parent. I loved my parents. I still do.

 My dad was a nice guy but he was inattentive and just not there. And as children do, I put the blame on myself, feeling not good enough, funny enough, smart enough, etc. As a result, I never really felt that my dad thought about me or loved me very much. After my dad died, I had an amazing experience. I was asleep, but what I experienced did not seem like a dream. It felt real. I saw my dad surrounded by light and I felt completely blissful. I said in joyful amazement, “Dad, I thought you were dead! What are you doing here?” He said, “I’m not dead” and handed me what I thought was a driver’s license because he didn’t look like himself, although I knew it was him. It was his death certificate and he said again, “I’m not dead.” I hugged him and told him I loved him. He said, “I love you. I loved you before. And I love you still.”

I felt as the song “Halo” says, I’m surrounded by your embrace, standing in the light of your halo.

I believe that it was his spirit telling me something I needed to hear all my life. He probably told me he loved me many times when he was alive, but I don’t think I ever quite believed him.

I do now.

I was wondering yesterday whether I should write this post in honor of Fathers’ Day. I was in a sculpting class, thinking about my dad and a song he liked. One of the lyrics goes, I love a flower girl. Suddenly, the song boomed from the class speakers. It was the last one on the playlist. Coincidence?  I don’t think it was.

We have a collective halo. We are all light beings. We are all connected. When we can remember that what we see, touch, and feel is not the sum total of what’s real, we can begin to receive messages and love from those who have passed on. It is not so crazy – animals can see and hear things that we can’t perceive. So why is it crazy to think that people who loved us so dearly ever really leave us?

“Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?”“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling.

I wish you all a Happy Fathers’ Day!  

And thank you, Dad.

 

A Bruce Springsteen Miracle in Brooklyn

The photograph, Simonetti’s Cleaners & Bike, always reminds me of my hometown, as does the song, Out in the Street.  In the photo, it is a sunny day and the bikers are having a leisurely ride on local streets. In the song, the lyrics talk about “out in the street I walk the way I want to walk…talk the way I want to talk. In the crowd I feel at home.”  During the pandemic, that feeling of being together was lost. Now we can come together again. And even though we missed being with people, we didn’t realize just how deprived we felt until the restrictions were lifted. Even being among strangers feels good – normal and freeing. There is vibration within and around all of us, even if we don’t consciously recognize it. We have all had the experience of walking into a room and knowing, without hearing a word, that an argument has taken place between the two people standing there. We can all feel and read energy.

A dear friend gave me the gift of a ticket to a Springsteen concert in Brooklyn. Bruce sang Out in the Street and (it seemed) all 19,000 people were singing with him. It was magical – all of us were singing the same exact sounds joyously. We were lifting each other up. That is a powerful healing. No matter our political views, religious affiliations, gender, or race, in that moment we were all in sync. We were One. It seemed that there was nothing but happiness in that huge venue.

My friend and I were on our way out and we couldn’t find the car key. We frantically looked all around our seats and backtracked to the bathroom we had used earlier. Nothing. But my friend, who is the eternal optimist (yet had little hope – it was such a small key, such a huge stadium), suggested we try the lost and found. Someone had turned the key in! We got in the car and drove home, marveling with gratitude that a stranger took the trouble to hand in the key. It was a miracle.

In reality, that kindness signifies our essential oneness. In that mass of people, all singing as one, someone coming across a key in a huge space went out of her way to take care of strangers. I imagine it was because she knew how it would feel to be stuck in Brooklyn with no means of transportation, late at night.

When two strings on different instruments are plucked at the same time, they end up vibrating at the same speed. The people in that stadium were vibrating together, pulling one another upward. In other words, love is catching.

I am grateful to that unknown person who showed us kindness and love. It always creates a miracle.

 

Pride

 This airplane hangar has been standing since the 1920s. It has been beaten up – windows broken, paint faded, beams rusted. Charles Lindbergh, Amelia Earhart, and Howard Hughes all stood in this building – each of them glamorously tragic figures.  

As we age, we too have faced disillusionment and shattered facades. Our bones are a bit rusty, but still we stand with our war wounds, stronger and more beautiful -- not in spite of, but because of what we have learned. We have understood the incalculable gifts that come from being uniquely and unwaveringly ourselves. The full-out living of our lives has opened us up to more love, more understanding, more compassion, more truth telling. As we stand in the sun, it may bring our dings and broken parts into sharp relief, but the bones, the core of who we are remains the same, and we realize how silly it was to ever have thought we had to be different than who we really are. When we have the courage to be exactly who we are, we give everyone else the freedom to do the same. In the Gnostic Gospels, by Elaine Pagels, the Gospel of St. Thomas says, “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

Pride still stands. To me, it is beautiful. The wear and tear make it even more beautiful in my eyes than if I had seen it in its grandiose heyday, occupied by the celebrated, haunted pilots who give it such gravitas today.

We are forever the truth of who we are. Pride stands tall. So do we. But even better, we are wiser and stronger in our hearts. We are fully ourselves. And we are still dancing.

Dance and Photography Joy

Dance and photography intermingle in my heart. 

When I finish choreographing a dance or when I finish editing a photo, I have a feeling of euphoria. It is like falling in love. The joy of doing these things makes me want to do them again and again. 

When the train comes for me -- dance or photography -- I hop on and there is space to be creative. Always, though, the train stops and throws me off. That gives me space to enjoy what I've done, but then I worry that the train won't stop for me again, that my best work is forever behind me. 

Happily, there is ALWAYS another train, so I have learned to not push myself onto the tracks, knowing that eventually I will be able to board it  again. 

It may not be as fast as I like -- some train journeys are quick, some are long -- but there are always spaces in between where I can turn my mind to other practicalities like food and dust bunnies. But even in these dull activities, there can be --if not joy -- at least some peace and gratitude that I am lucky to have a home to clean and all the food I want to eat. This Covid year has made me more grateful for blessings large and small. 

In my new Instagram account, I am connecting photographic images with music and dance. Images evoke music, music evokes movement, and movement is a series of images created in the body with music as the frame. 

There is a connection in all that we do -- no matter your profession or the ways in which you fill your time. Even if the activities seem unrelated, they are always a reflection of who we are.  

I am joyously grateful for this journey. Thank you for being a part of it!

Love,

Sue

 

No Buts. Only Ands.

Sometimes when I am teaching or taking a dance class, my mind starts to focus on upsetting things. If there was something I could have done about these unsettling mirages my mind makes up, I would have already remedied them. Mostly it’s fretting about situations I can’t control. What then upsets me is that I have only gone through the motions of the song without enjoying it – without fully experiencing it. And then it’s gone. I have missed that particular oasis-moment of happiness. That moment won’t come again.

This reminds me that when I have an opportunity to be joyful, I have to be in it.

Sometimes I feel joy, but then the dark thought of “what comes next” interferes, dampening my happiness.

From now on, my mantra is “I am happy” – full stop. NOT “I am happy but.”

Better yet, “I am happy AND…” because further goodness awaits me. The more I feel joy, the more I will experience every day. The more I am optimistic that love always prevails, the more I will see that happening. I believe this.

Be in your joy, Right now.

As always, sending much joy and love to all of you.

 

Dance, Vibration, and Rumi

When I try to force myself to choreograph a song, it never works. If I push myself to come up with something, that particular song seems to never make it into my class because somehow it’s just not right. In every moment, an infinite number of possible movement choices exist, which encompass every possibility. But if I don’t feel good while choosing the movement patterns, the result is not satisfying. If I love the song, later, when I am in a better emotional place, the music will show me where to go and I can end up with a dance I really like.

We live in a world of vibration. Like vibrations attract one another. We create our future in this moment. If our emotions are fearful, our vibration is dragged down into anxiety. We are then attracting a reality we don’t much want.

Sometimes, for me, it is impossible to feel positive, especially lately. Logic would tell us that the chaos we see all around us right now is truth – and, horribly might remain the truth whether we like it or not. What comes next is anybody’s guess. If we stay stuck in fear, more fear is what we will see barreling toward us.

The more I pretend to feel positive when I really don’t, the more anxious I become. The monster under the bed gets bigger and meaner when I try to ignore it. So when I am calm, I think about the future. I allow myself to feel the joy that comes when love has prevailed over fear, when unity has overcome division, when kindness conquers cruelty.

If I just can’t get to that point, I read my favorite Rumi quote:

When I run after what I think I want, my days are a furnace of distress and anxiety; If  I sit in my own place of patience, what I need flows to me and without any pain. From this I know that what I want also wants me, is looking for me and attracting me. There is a great secret in this for anyone who can grasp it.

So we don’t have to force ourselves to do creative work when it’s not “right.” We do not have to be in a positive mood when we don't really feel that way. We need only remind ourselves that love is who we are, and get a little help from Rumi or others of a similar vibration to give us a leg up.

Every positive vibration emanating from us affects the All. The more we love ourselves, the more we will see love all around us. If we can wait in our own place of patience, knowing that love always prevails, the dance will then take care of itself. 

 

Re-imagine

        

I always liked the Led Zeppelin song, “Kashmir.” Years ago I found an instrumental cover of it by a band called Bond that I thought I could choreograph. The chorus of the song has a weird count – and by weird I mean that the count is 1-6. I am completely flummoxed by any music that does not have an 8-count. I liked this version, though, and thought it might be a stretch to use the Led Zeppelin version in class, so I had to re-imagine the chorus. I decided to try and fit it into an 8-count. What I got was: 1-2-3 and 4 and -- which strictly speaking is actually 6 counts. Somehow, I cannot wrap my brain around a six count. My body will not respond to that pattern. However, in the re-imagined count (that I made up), I could do it. And even though I made it up, it fit. The song is now danceable (at least for me).

I am trying a similar re-imagining with the situation in the wider world that we share. When I look around, it is difficult not to fall headlong into fear, worry, and even despair. But what if all this turmoil, acrimony, and hatred is “woundedness” coming to the surface in order to be healed? What if we decided to think of it in this way? What if we superimposed on the relentless beat of hostility a new beat – one we could understand, one we could dance to? If we reimagine the chaos we see happening all around us, we can think of it as a wound coming forward into the light. It couldn’t be healed if we didn’t see it.

And all we have to do is be the love that we are. We can carry that vibration knowing it is felt by everyone.

We can re-imagine our rhythm, our song. One we can dance to.